


dance partner

by lovelylogans



Series: sanders sides platonic week [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Dancing, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2020-12-17 18:20:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelylogans/pseuds/lovelylogans
Summary: Roman knew the best dance partner of the other sides.Virgil, bless him, would get too frozen up if any of the residents of Roman’s realm watched him in any way, and Logan just wouldnotindulge Roman’s “frivolous fantasies,” but that was all right, because Roman hadPatton.





	dance partner

**Author's Note:**

> this, amazingly, has art from the person who helped inspire the whole story! check out sanderstribute's adorable art [here!](https://lovelylogans.tumblr.com/post/170508478031/sanders-sides-platonic-week-royality) i'm still crying about it.

Roman knew the best dance partner of the other sides.

Virgil, bless him, would get too frozen up if any of the residents of Roman’s realm watched him in any way, and Logan just would _not_ indulge Roman’s “frivolous fantasies,” but that was all right, because Roman had _Patton._

“Ready, Pat?” Roman asked with a grin, knocking on Patton’s door, and Patton flung open his door, beaming, already dressed to the nines in his own kingly garb.

“Let’s get our boogie on, kiddo!”

Roman twirled his wrist and bowed at the waist before straightening, and Patton held out an imaginary skirt in a curtsy before taking Roman’s arm. 

“Bye, nerds,” Roman called as they passed the living room, where Logan and Virgil were sitting quietly in the living room, pouring something from a steaming kettle, and Patton smacked him fondly on the arm before calling out, “Have a fun night in, you two! Don’t wait up!”

Roman tugged a still-giggling Patton towards his door, and they walked out of the portal right in front of their favorite dancing tavern, already booming with bright, happy music.

As they approached the door, a few standbys bowed their way.

“Prince Roman,” said the bouncer, and smiled at Patton, bowing his head. “King Patton.”

Patton giggled charmingly, as he always did whenever members of Roman’s realm called him the king. “Business is booming tonight, huh?”

“Of course it is,” Roman declared. “You were going to come, of course people showed up.”

As they walked in, Roman saw Patton perk up at the sound of bright, clear jazz, and he nudges Roman happily with his elbow. There are couples already cutting across the floor, practically flying with it.

It felt like Roman and Patton should be in tophats and coats with tails rather than their more royal garb, Patton decked out in blue and white to counteract Roman’s red and white; silver where Roman was gold, kittens and dogs where Roman had his emblem. 

As the song transitioned from one into the other, passerby clapping along, Roman held his hand out to Patton, arching a curious brow.

“Shall we?”

Patton grinned, placing his hand in Roman’s. “We shall.”

Swing was much more Patton’s domain than Roman’s, but Roman wasn’t something to sneeze at; he could keep up with Patton, most of the time. Roman was leading, but that was mostly so Patton would be able embellish more, add in kicks or hops while Roman could help twist him on his way.

Roman did like swing; the way each partner could add in their own touch before melting back into a coordinated move together, feet never still, full of hops and twists and something so wonderfully _quaint_ about all of it. He and Patton had been Lindy-hopping and doing the Charleston together ever since Roman was first entranced by a video of Fred and Ginger as a child, and to his surprise, it had turned out that Patton had taken more onto that style than Roman ever did. 

Patton and Roman had been dancing together for so long that the brief warning squeeze on Roman’s hand was all he needed to know that Patton was about to try some stuntwork, and on their next turn, Roman’s hands on Patton’s waist helped him lift-twist into the next kick, and then it was _on,_ stunts learned on rainy days with couch cushions stacked beneath them. 

Roman’s hands planted on Patton’s shoulders, and Patton’s hands on his thighs helped hoist him so he leapt over Patton’s head, recovering in time for Patton to dip him low and swing him around into the next bit of Lindy.

Patton put his back to Roman’s, and Roman _knew_ this one, ducking and allowing the momentum of it all to flip Patton over his back, grinning as he stood up straight and they headed straight into a partnered Charleston, hop-kicking their way around the room.

“[Jumpin’ Jive](https://youtu.be/_8yGGtVKrD8?t=1m39s)?” Roman called into Patton’s ear as they twirled their way back to the center of the room, and Patton laughed.

“If I can remember it all!”

This had been learned over the course of two weeks, and it had driven Logan absolutely crazy. Firstly, because it involved a lot of tap, which was loud. Secondly, it involved a lot of moving across a variety of rooms, which was disruptive. Thirdly, it involved tapping and jumping on _tables,_ which was both loud _and_ disruptive.

The choreography wasn’t an exact copy, of course; neither of them could do the jump-splits, or regular splits for that matter, and some of the tap footwork had been to intricate so they had improvised new steps to go in its place. 

Either way, the routine was exhausting, and intricate, and it had been a while since either of them practiced, so it perhaps wasn’t as perfect as it could have been. But the fact that Roman nearly rolled his ankle and Patton had stopped to laugh at himself whenever he forgot a move didn’t seem to matter to the people surrounding them; when the song came to an end, the tavern’s occupants burst out into cheers and applause.

Patton laughed, tugging Roman in for a quick side-hug, squeezing him tight around the shoulders before letting him go so he could fan himself.

“Shucks, kiddo, it’s been too long since we’ve done that!” Patton exclaimed, beaming. “Wanna grab a drink before we head back out?”

Roman, who was also breathing a bit heavier than he would have liked, nodded in agreement, twining his hand in Patton’s so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.

“Water,” Roman mouthed at the bartender, who nodded at them, finishing up her orders before sliding two glasses already sweating with condensation down the bar, towards them. Patton’s was distinguishable by the silly straw.

They were midway through their glasses when the band started swapping instruments, and Roman felt himself perk up, because—

“Salsa,” Roman said, vaguely worshipful, and Patton grinned.

“Need a partner?”

“Always with you, Pat,” Roman said, and Patton offered his hand to grandly lead Roman to the center of the floor.

The musicians got ready. Roman grinned at Patton, who was grinning back. [They got into position.](https://youtu.be/aHDKkmC7A8w?t=1m15s)

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Patton led when it came to salsa, also so Roman could embellish as he liked. Salsa was all about _passion_ and _energy_, and Roman _loved_ it, the bright brassy beat, the dramatic, smooth choreography, the style and flair. There was choreography, of course, but you could so easily add in moves as your inspiration took you flying. 

Swing was quick, sure, but salsa just _moved_ in a way that swing didn’t; salsa brought the best kind of adrenaline rush, full of laughter and complex moves and that wild, inescapable energy. It made him feel _alive_ in the best kind of way, like the music, the performance, all of it, was just for him.

And, of course, for Patton.

Patton was a great partner, in all genres, but especially in salsa. Whatever bright, happy zest for life that he usually had came shining through whenever he danced; like he was just happy to be near the music, like the music was moving _him,_ and he was happy for it to happen. With salsa, it turned into something a little showoffish, for Patton, a little bit less family-friendly and a little more daring. 

Patton knew how to turn his hands to spin Roman so Roman wouldn’t hurt his wrists. Patton knew when to jerk his head to the side if Roman decided to go to a kick. Patton knew the exact placement of hand-on-wrist and arm-on-chest if Roman went to the ground. 

Swing may have been Patton’s area, but Patton could certainly salsa his way in and out of a crisis, if necessary.

The song ended, and Roman glanced back at Patton, who was starting to fan himself again. 

“More water,” Roman declared, and they marched back to the bar. This time, Roman got a silly straw too.

Admittedly, less salsa than Roman would have liked, but by the time they were finished with their drinks _everyone_ was slipping out onto the floor, and Roman couldn’t help but grin as the[ strings started up, simple yet lively, and the other instruments rushing to join in.](https://youtu.be/chppF5jqKNw?t=1m41s)

Of course it would be this song.

Patton got pulled off to one side, and Roman laughed before he was twirled away by the bouncer, the few bystanders clapping along to the beat. 

The dance was a raucous, joyous affair; no one cared about footwork all that much, and there was the clashingly familiar way that everyone added their own embellishments, the occasional offbeat clap, the great shout of laughter if someone tripped over themselves, but always going to help them out. 

Roman swung arm-in-arm with an ever-rotating group of his subjects, beaming the whole way, hopping and jumping and skipping together, the room a great wheel of motion and movement. At one point, they split to form two lines, everyone clapping as duos from one end paraded down the other, dancing, holding hands.

Roman was hardly even surprised when Patton fell into step with him again at the end of the song, the dance silly and bright. They spun in circles and got dizzy, they leapt when the rest of the room leapt, they jumped and let their hair flop into their faces, sweaty and gross, royal outfits more and more disheveled.

The room cheered as the song ended, Roman pulled Patton in roughly for a hug, laughing and shoving him off when Patton mussed at his hair, before taking his hand again and twirling him again, stepping back into the fray, ready to dance the rest of the night away.


End file.
